


Picking Up Where We Left Off

by A_bello



Series: Kinktober 2020 [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cumshot, Degradee Hannibal, Dom Will, Hannibal jacks off, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kinktober, Kinktober day 5, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Prison Will, S2 Canon Divergence, Unorthodox Therapy, degrading, hush money, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26832469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_bello/pseuds/A_bello
Summary: “I’ve taken it upon myself, Will, to schedule this appointment for you in an attempt to pick up where we left off. I believe it could be beneficial.”Will didn’t respond until after sighing, lips pursed.“Well, I hope you aren’t hoping for payment, because I don’t plan on writing any checks.”Hannibal clicked his tongue, smiling slightly.“No. My payment will not be in any media other than your time.”And maybe something more
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Kinktober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948135
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51
Collections: Unorthodox Therapy (Hannigram)





	Picking Up Where We Left Off

Hannibal smiled at the shocked guard, hand still deftly holding out a wad of money for him. It took a long-held stare and an uneasy shift of his feet before the man reached out, quickly pulling the paper from between his fingers, as if Hannibal would change his mind mid-exchange. The guard sighed, muttering under this breath his final answer with a glance away from Hannibal.

“Alright. Go on.”

His smile widened and he pushed past him, a coat fitted neatly within the crook of his elbow, swaying with each steady step. He raised the coat, letting it lay evenly over his broad shoulder and back.

Finally, his destination came into view, and he slowed, feet sliding across the stone floors until he overall came to a stop. He turned sharply to face the cell; an empty, ugly room, with coarse sheets and hollow walls. Will didn’t look up from where he sat on the bed.

Hannibal was content with the lack of confrontation; it would make it easier for this to last if the staring was unreciprocated. Yet, still, part of him itched to have Will fix him with those ice cold eyes, his hardened stare. 

“I’ve taken it upon myself, Will, to schedule this appointment for you in an attempt to pick up where we left off. I believe it could be beneficial.”

Will didn’t respond until after sighing, lips pursed.

“Well, I hope you aren’t hoping for payment, because I don’t plan on writing any checks.”

Hannibal clicked his tongue, smiling slightly. 

“No. My payment will not be in any media other than your time.”

_ And maybe something more _ .

Will frowned but didn’t respond, still staring across from him at the dirty, empty wall of his cell, ever so alert and stiff.

Hannibal wanted to raise his voice, snap his fingers and point to the ground in front of him, usher Will in his direction. 

Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep, lingering breath, before reaching down to his pants and fiddling with the front of his belt. It was far too soon, and Will was always one for hesitance. He’d need to be poked and prodded and persuaded before anything as simple as eye contact would be given, especially when Hannibal could practically smell the hatred and distrust the man held for him. 

Without looking in the psychiatrist’s direction, his eyes widened at the sound of a belt buckle clacking, clinking, and then coming undone. Will’s tongue trailed over his bottom lip at the sound of his pants zipper, accompanied by the ruffle of expensive clothes, before, finally, out of the corner of his eye, he could see his cock.

Hannibal spit into his palm, quietly, eyes never leaving the man as he wrapped his long fingers around himself. His strokes were slow, firm, coaxing his dick to fill quickly, biting so hard into his tongue in search of silence that he feared he just might bite it in half. T he thought of blood pooling warm and fast into his mouth did little to calm him, though, which helped in some way. This ordeal would be easier if he felt less attached, but it was so difficult to separate himself from the situation when he could smell Will’s layered body odor and fresh sweat, his growing arousal, all so sweet that it left Hannibal dizzy.

His free hand came up to wrap around one of the thick iron bars, the metallic smell of it addictingly tangy as it coats the back of his throat. His eyes fell closed as his erection shifted in his grasp, as hard as he’s going to get and aching for attention. 

He momentarily sank into the feeling of his hand, tight around his cock, palm coarse where it dragged across his foreskin, pressing and pulling firmly, just enough to coax a groan from between his lips. Things were moving smoothly, the only noise the soft  _ schlick _ and  _ squelch  _ of him jacking off, until Will cleared his throat. 

Hannibal opened his eyes quickly, recomposing himself slightly while not stopping, quickly coming to realize that Will had turned his head to look at him. 

He did pause, then, breath catching in his throat at the violent expression slowly creeping across Will’s face. His upper lip twitched, teeth bared in a judgemental and angry snarl, brow furrowing above those narrow, hateful eyes. He felt another drop of heat in his lower stomach, like magma dripping from a slow stream, pooling just above the base of his cock. 

His ferocity was always a beautiful thing and Hannibal honestly wished that he could have witnessed more of it before having to put Will into confinement, but he did not regret their current situation. He had all the time in the world to wait for what he wanted. 

Will stood, body stiff with a towering rage, rearing back like a horse preparing to ride into war. He still did not move his hand, still did not tear his eyes from those of ice. If anything, Hannibal shifted closer to the metal bars as the curly haired prisoner took four measured steps towards him, stopping just a foot away on the other side of the bars. 

He was teasing, per usual. If Hannibal slid his arm through the bars, his fingers would just barely graze the front of his jumpsuit, close enough to get the barest impression of a touch but too far to get a firm grasp. 

He couldn’t help the way his fingers twitched around the bar and his own member, and as the corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile, he watched Will’s own dislike slowly turn into salaciousness, the change written across the tension in his shoulders.

His arm moved again, pumping slowly but roughly, slamming from his tip to his base, squeezing lightly. Will didn’t move, fingers fluttering occasionally where they hung at his sides. 

They stared at one another, Hannibal smug as a cat who’d just knocked a vase off the dresser, Will it’s fuming owner. 

“You disgust me. What the hell are you doing?”

Hannibal stilled for a moment, blinking in surprise, before fucking his fist with newfound passion. He didn’t respond, just gave a breathy whine. Another deep squelch sounded, but neither of them winced. If anything, the imprisoned man just looked further inspired, pupils swelling within the sea of chilled blue. 

Will continued, venom dripping from his lips, sharpness pouring onto every syllable that came out from between his teeth.

“You’re vile,  _ Hannibal _ . Just the sight of you, desperate and wanton, makes me sick to my stomach.”

The sound of his name rolling off Will’s tongue like it disgusted him left Hannibal reeling, knuckles white around the bars between the two men. He let out a deep moan, thumb sliding across the sensitive tip of his uncut dick, the skin there reddened and shifting. His mouth hung agape slightly, eyes hooded where he met Will’s own, hair still neatly gelled out of the way. 

Will’s stiff mouth suddenly wrenched sideways, and he leaned, spitting on Hannibal’s rather expensive and freshly shined leather shoes. Hannibal gasped, hips stuttering as they jerked into his own clutch with shock and need. A whine forced itself over the lump in his throat.

Will’s voice was deep, hoarse as it came out harsh, almost a purr; not the sweet kind, either. This was the pleased hum of a predator, hungry and evil and calculating.

“I’ve never wanted to throw up more than I do now. I just might do it. And you’d let me spill my guts across your clean shoes, wouldn’t you? Anything to please me? You  _ debase  _ yourself,  _ Doctor _ Lecter. Where has your pride gone?”

Hannibal let out a strangled groan, straightening his shoulders as he leaned forward to press his forehead against the metal bar there, just beside his fist. If he let go, he felt his legs would surely fold beneath him, and then he’d be on his knees. The thought of such a sign of submission, of admittance to the truth of Will’s words, nearly knocked him down alone. He still felt painfully hard, and his pace quickened with vigor. 

He didn’t nod, didn’t say anything. Just moaned.

Will chuckled sourly, not moving a muscle otherwise.

“You’re a repulsive man, Doctor Lecter. Your very presence sows seeds of appalling rage within my awareness. You try your hardest to blind me, Doctor, but all you’ve managed to do is make me see better than ever before. I see you, here, before me, begging for forgiveness.”

Hannibal closed his eyes, breath quickening.

“Open your eyes,  **now** .”

They opened indeed, wide with apparent surprise and something else. Something akin to fear, mixed with lust until it became its own brand new experience. Will’s expression of disdain rolled onwards into new territory, something peeking onto satisfaction. 

“Good.”

He looked away from the shaking, slightly sweaty man before him, down to Hannibal’s hooded cock. He watched it weep, precum beading in the tip like a pearl, opaque and wet, before Hannibal’s hand smeared over it, wiping a sheen of beautiful gloss over his shaft. 

Will swallowed, looking back up to meet those dark eyes that he’d come oh so familiar with over the past few days. 

Those eyes stay stuck to the back of his neck, even in the empty spaces of his lonely cell. Those eyes had mesmerized his own body, in both his nightmares and his fantasies. Those eyes that held a disturbing warmth when they regarded Will Graham, who had once wrongly believed it to be affection or friendliness, instead of the narcissistic pride in his own capacities for violence.

Will shuddered, hard in his jumpsuit, feeling impossibly more aroused at the simple notion of what once had been, and what was now. He had gone from a sick puppy to a capable wolf, cunning and vengeful. He had singlehandedly tamed the beast who’d once owned him, all from the confinement of these cold stone walls. 

_ His _ beast was trembling and gasping, breath clouding drops of moisture across the iron bars of Will’s now familiar captivity. 

“Cum for me, Doctor Lecter.”

He said, still holding his gaze, not sure himself whether he’s trying to intimidate Hannibal or encourage him. He’s not sure which is spurring the man on either, but he is riled and tamed to Will’s tone, mind pliable for the first time within the months Will has known him. 

Hannibal nodded, eyelids fluttering as if they wanted to close, to shy away from the prisoner’s harsh gaze.

“Look at me while you do it.”

He commanded, tone firmer than before. 

The man whimpered, downright  _ moaned _ , and his hand halted at his base. Hannibal’s grip on the metal bar shifted and he turned his face against his, slightly muffling his noises while still not looking away. 

Hips faltering where they thrust into his fist, Hannibal finished with a deep groan, his cum spilling over his fingers and onto the floor, over Will’s shoes and the floor between them. The milky liquid settled in the stifling tensions between the two men as Hannibal came down from cloud nine.

They stood still for a few moments, the seconds seeming to stretch into minutes. Hannibal, desperately panting, finally straightened himself up, leaning away from the bars, from Will. With a slight tremor in his hands, he tucked himself into his underwear, zipped up his pants, and fixed his button up and the way it tucked in beneath his vest. 

He turned to leave with a stiff tug on his jacket, a delicate slide of his overcoat moving back into the crook of his elbow, and the loud noise of Hannibal clearing his throat. 

“I’ll return in a week for our next session.”

He then begins to move, long strides measured as he walks down the damp, dark hall, and right before he’s gone, he hears Will’s voice ring out.

“I look forward to it, Dr. Lecter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Every hit, kudo, share, and comment mean so much to me. Thank you for the support this kinktober, I'm excited to make it halfway and past it. I hope you enjoyed day 5 :)
> 
> Also Hannibal 100% comes back and cums in Will's hands the second time. 
> 
> -Adam, @Bello7a on twitter


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